


Heart sick

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, M/M, Nursing, Puns & Word Play, Sickfic, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24946564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Optimus isn't feeling well, and his team is trying to function properly without him. Little did Ratchet know, it isn't just the energon discharge that's plaguing the poor mech.
Relationships: Optimus Prime & Ratchet
Kudos: 34





	Heart sick

**Author's Note:**

> this is for @eronposts on tumblr. hope you enjoy!

"Are you SURE?!"

Bulkhead yelled, both him and Bumblebee holding their helms in their hands as they only continued to follow him around. Ratchet sighed, adding a teapot to his tray. He was in the kitchen area of the base, getting a few things ready for their team leader. He had gotten quite a nasty case of energon discharge, forcing Ratchet to put him on a strict regimen of energon, medication, and berth rest. While Optimus was most likely going to be fine, his team was damn near close to having a spark attack. Ratchet sighed.

"No, this is totally something I didn't train millenias for. In fact, he might just die right here and now. Solid dust."

Apparently his sarcasm was no match for their concern, as they suddenly started screaming, as well as bawling, holding each other in comfort.

"I'm not READY for him to go!!"

"Imma MISS the boss bot!"

"He's a dweeb, but he's OUR dweeb!"

"THAT'S WHAT WE'RE PUTTING ON HIS TOMBSTONE!"

They immediately gave an agony fueled sob, before Ratchet grumbled. He set his tray down, before smacking both of them on the back of their helms.

"Listen you lugheads, I was being SARCASTIC. He's fine, he's just got a bit of a bug in him-"

"You mean he WISHES he had a bit of a bug in him."

They both blinked at Bumblebee's words, before Bulkhead smacked Bumblebee this time.

"Hey! That was funny!"

"That was messed up Bee, Prime still isn't over Blackarachnia, don't gotta layer it on while he's sick."

Bumblebee shrugged, deciding to help Ratchet, reaching for the tray. Up until Ratchet smacked his hands, taking his tray in his own.

"Will you guys STOP smacking me?!"

"Soon as you stop giving us reasons to. Now look, you two quit your freaking out. The prime is fine, he's just gonna be out of it for a while. All he needs is rest, medication, and for you brats to get out of his paint for a while. The less stress he's under, the faster he'll get over it. Head on patrol with Prowl, stretch your wheels."

"Hey, Prime is in charge!"

Bumblebee huffed, hands on his hips. Ratchet gave a huff, locking optics with the young bot.

"When the team leader is out of commission, the acting medic is to be in charge, according to the rules set by Cybertron's military protocol. Unless he up and says otherwise, I'M in charge. So go and make yourself useful elsewhere."

Ratchet then caught just why these two were fighting so hard against him (more than usual anyway), mainly when Bulkhead peered in the direction of Optimus's quarters. Ratchet sighed, taking a klik to breathe. He had to listen to Arcee's advice, 'to be kind is to be helpful'. Cheesy as it was.

"Look, I get it, I do. You two are worried something is gonna happen while you go out."

"Yeah."

"Pfft, no."

Both mechs spoke simultaneously, before meeting each other's gazes. Only confirmed just how right Ratchet was.

"I understand. Trust me, I've been in this situation a million and one times. But you two don't have medical experience, and you being here is making yourself useless. Optimus knowing that you two are still hard at work will make him feel better, trust me. You two worry about crime, I'll worry for the prime."

Surprisingly, both mechs had a soft chuckle at his stupid rhyme. It was bad, in a very good way. Bumblebee nodded.

"Alright, sounds fair. Try not to get any of your old germs on him while you're at it."

"I'll make an effort."

He'd decided to let that go, at least for now. Afterall, Optimus needed his attention. He walked into the Prime's room, and shut the door behind him with his pede. Soon as Ratchet set the tray on the nightstand, Optimus awoke, optics wide in panic. He had previously dozed off, purely in exhaustion, and now he immediately regretted it, recalling his team's need for him.

"Oh scrap how long was I asleep for?! Where's Bumblebee? Bulkhead? Pro-"

He jolted out of bed, about to dash out the door and resume command, before his body became overwhelmed with exhaustion. Had Ratchet not dived for him, he would've met with the floor face first.

"Easy, easy, Optimus. You can't resume command just yet. You're too weak to even make it out the front door."

"But...the team-"

"The team is fine. Prowl, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee are all on patrol. Arcee is on monitor duty, and I'm constantly telling them to update me."

Ratchet held onto the other's body, helping him into berth. Optimus clearly wanted to fight him, but as soon as his body felt the soft surface of the sheets, he was unable to sit up on his own. Ratchet helped him, using a pillow to support his back.

"I just...if I'm not there, I worry how well everything is going. You took over, right?"

"As per protocol, just how you like it."

"Funny."

Optimus chuckled, before his horn suddenly blared, body spasming and engine sputtering. Energon discharge caused a lot of these, and it was very akin to human sneezing. Optimus hated it. Ratchet sighed at how bad that sneeze was, not liking how it sounded. Optimus had been hiding his symptoms, making its discovery far worse than it should've been. On the plus side, Ratchet was caring for him, and it was no longer the age of the dinobots, so this illness was more of a nuisance, rather than life threatening. Ratchet poured some tea into his cup, and carefully brought it to Optimus.

"Here. Having some steam will loosen your nasal passages, making the sneezes a bit easier on you. Not to mention I used the powder specifically for upping your immune system. It's a bit bitter, but that's why Arcee made you some oil cakes."

"Thank you, Ratchet. I apologize for putting so much work on top of you taking over for me."

"Bah, it's my job, just doing what I gotta."

Optimus blew on his tea, and took a sip. He wasn't kidding when he said it was bitter. He sucked it up however, because medicine was medicine, and bots in the before times would kill to have such a remedy. He took a good sip, fighting through the awful flavor, before Ratchet sat next to him.

"I'm gonna give ya some coolant, I'd hate for you to overheat and melt ya damn processor."

Ratchet held one bowl of the watery like coolant, and with his other, dipped a cloth into it, lightly dabbing the other's forehead afterwards. Optimus's audials perked up to attention.

"Should you be touching me? I'd hate for you to catch anything."

"Eh, I doubt I will. Even if I do, I actually take care of myself right when I see signs. Unlike a certain bot I know."

Optimus's audials slacked as well as his shoulders, clearly embarrassed. 

"I...sorry. I was just so focused on catching those seekers, my symptoms seemed so secondary. But you're right, I need to take better care of myself. Not just for me, but for the rest of the team. I promise it won't happen again, Ratchet."

"Good to hear, Prime. We ain't much without you, I know I ain't."

"You talk this sweetly to all bots, huh?"

They both shared a chuckle at that. Ratchet and Optimus always shared a sorta closeness that they hadn't really had a chance to explore, but they were very aware that they meant the world to one another. Ratchet moved his hand from his forehead, to his chest, not quite liking that sizzle he heard from the contact. Young bot was too warm, he could only imagine how worse for wear the poor Prime would've gotten, had Ratchet not caught him acting off the other day. Optimus sighed, optics softening in the relief he felt. That in itself made Ratchet feel better.

“Better?”

“So much. I’m lucky to have you, Ratchet. You guys might see me as someone special, being some cadet, but the team wouldn't be anything without you. I wouldn't be anything without you, Ratchet.”

“Ha, and you say I’m a smooth talker.”

Ratchet lightly pulled the sheet away, to lean over and dab at his core. Optimus peered over at his face, seeing him at much close proximity. 

“Ratchet..do you think I dont mean it?”

“I think ya aft a bit loopy, given how overheated you are.”

“I..might be. But I mean it. You mean a lot to all of us, and I know we mean a lot to you.”

“I..guess ya got a point, kiddo. Against my better judgement, I got places in my spark for ya morons.”

Ratchet pulled away as he ‘sneezed’ again. It was loud, but at least Optimus didn't feel his insides constrict as he did so. Optimus wiped his face with his arm, before chuckling.

“Hey, you got a special place in mine, too, you old grump.”

“I’m givin’ ya a pass for calling me old, purely because I like the slag outta ya.”

Ratchet was about to turn around and leave, about to tell Optimus to get some rest, before he suddenly felt the other’s hand grip onto his own wrist. He met the prime’s face. Optimus looked nervous, worried, as if he was about to leap right out of a building.

“Ratchet, I know you’re gonna make me get some rest, and I’ll obey every word you say. But can I ask you a question?”

“Must be important if ya lookin’ at me like that.”

“It is. I...I wanna know, when you say we have a place in your spark, what do you mean?”

“It means I care about ya pieces of slag. You, Arcee, Bulkhead, Prowl, everyone.”

“You forgot Bumblebee.”

“I was trying to, believe me.”

Optimus gave a soft chuckle. While that was funny, he was still terribly nervous, because he genuinely didn't know HOW to say this right. His affections...usually weren’t reciprocated. Not to mention he had absolutely no clue where Arcee’s place was. He set his teacup down, and held the others hand in both of his. Ratchet was their medic, and wouldn't hurt him, but he still felt his spark thump. He HAD to try. He HAD to be open. Worst case scenario, they could blame it on his sickness. It'd be an easy out. So why won't he just say it? He tried to form words, but failed to do so, deciding to just slack in his seat. Ratchet however, was ever stubborn.

“Prime, whatever it is ya afraid to tell me, ya shouldn't be. We’re a team, we support each other. Just come on out with it.”

Ratchet then gave him that smile. That battered, charming grin of his. He couldn't tell that face no.

“I...okay. I wanna know, when you say we have a place in your spark, where exactly do I fall?”

Ratchet wanted to act like he didn't know what the other meant. Not to be cruel, not to push him away, but because it wasn't fair. Optimus was literally in his prime. He was attractive, kind, with a spark that was previously bashed and battered. He didn't deserve a mech who was so old in the body and spark. He opened his mouth to dismiss him, before looking at his face. He was practically shaking, the poor thing. The want however, wasn't what convinced him to be honest. What did convince him, was recalling that Optimus needed him. He needed his trust, his honesty. He pulled his hand away, before pulling the other’s face closer, and against his better judgment, pressed his lips against the other's cheek. Optimus gawked at him as Ratchet pulled away.

“A very close, very special space, Optimus. A place where I'd do anything for you. I’m not sure if this is the right time to explore this, given ya ain’t right in the processor, but I care about ya more than I’ve cared about MANY others. Now that I've answered your question, ya get yourself into shutdown mode. I expect you to at least be cool to the touch by the time I get back.”

Optimus reached out for him, clearly wanting to address just what happened, before Ratchet walked out of the door. He gave it a moment, before he peered back into the room. Optimus didn't notice him, especially not as he held his cheek in surprise, then immediately held his flaming cheeks in his hands, audials flapping a million miles a minute.

Kid was prime for a spark break, and so was Ratchet.


End file.
